


Wings

by Exdraghunt



Series: Wings and Tails [3]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M, Wingfic, back massages solve everything, fae!Robbie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9076696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exdraghunt/pseuds/Exdraghunt
Summary: It's no secret that Robbie Rotten suffers from back pain. What is secret is the reason behind it





	1. Chapter 1

 

               The longer Sportacus observed one Robbie Rotten, the more the elf began to realize that the other man suffered from some kind of chronic pain. It was obvious in the stilted way he sometimes walked, the way Robbie always stooped and rarely straightened, the way he cringed away from touch and was always rubbing at his back.

 

               Though Sportacus was no doctor, he knew a basic level of sports medicine as part of his training and could hazard a few guesses at what was going on. There was Robbie’s hatred of physical movement (which Sportacus suspected wasn’t quite accurate, the man could be plenty energetic when he wanted to), his abysmal diet, the fact that he never stretched or properly warmed up before those times when he did try to play, his poor sleeping habits. . . really, it was a miracle the man got up to as much mischief as he did.

 

               What Sportacus couldn’t know, of course, was that many of these things were the result of chronic pain, as opposed to the cause. Though the two men had grown closer together since Christmas, and their awkward post-mistletoe kiss, Robbie still remained rather closed off and private. Sportacus figured he’d been perhaps a bit naïve in hoping that they would go straight to best-friend status (and just maybe. . . something more), but he was determined to keep working on it.

 

               One of the elf’s current goals was getting Robbie’s lair a little more suited for habitation. The man didn’t even have a proper bed, and apparently always slept in his furry armchair. No wonder he had issues with sleeping, and could often be found passed out on a park bench in town.

 

               The problem, of course, was that Robbie was very resistant to any attempt to change his habits. Sportacus didn’t want to force him, but it hurt to see someone he considered a friend deteriorating due to his unhealthy ways. Some days, Robbie came to the surface with deep, black circles under his eyes and Sportacus knew he hadn’t slept in days. The elf wished he could tie his friend down to the bed and make him sleep sometimes, though he’d never actually go that far.

 

               What he could do, though, was gently lead Robbie back down to his lair and put the man back in his armchair and drape a blanket over him. The airship would be better, but Robbie hated going all the way up to it and always steadfastly refused when it was offered.

 

               As Robbie tried to get comfortable, he accidently put pressure against his upper back and suddenly hissed in pain. Sportacus was immediately there, though when placing his hand against Robbie’s back resulted in high whine he pulled back nervously.

 

               “What can I do to help?” Sportacus tried instead. “Do you want a back massage? I can do a very good one.”

 

               “No!” Robbie said, a little too sharply as he cringed away from the elf’s hands. “No. There’s- there’s nothing you can do.”

 

               With little other choice, Sportacus just watched and wished he could do more.

 

 

 

               What he could do, was begin paying closer attention to Robbie’s back as he spent time with the other man. When Robbie needed saving from some misdeed or another, Sportacus took note of the odd shapes he could feel underneath the man’s clothing. It was becoming clear that Robbie was hiding something. He never took off his shirt, not even last summer when the kids went swimming, and that was suspicious enough. Something was very wrong.

 

               It came to a head on an unseasonably hot spring day, when Robbie came aboveground bleary eyed and wearing too many layers for the weather. He attempted to sneak into their soccer game anyway, even though the kids would’ve gladly let him play if asked, and the kids ended up getting their very first lesson on the dangers of heat exhaustion.

 

               “Robbie?” Stephanie watched with concern when the man wavered where he stood, then gasped when he collapsed to the field with no further ceremony.

 

               The rest of the kids ran over to try and help, but were quickly pushed back by Sportacus.

 

               “He’ll be alright.” The elf reassured, standing with Robbie cradled in his arms. “This is what happens when you don’t drink enough water when it’s this hot. I just need to get him back home.”

 

               With the kids thusly satisfied that Robbie wasn’t about to die, Sportacus dashed off back towards the villian’s lair. It was thankfully cooler underground, but Robbie’s body temperature was still too high. With no idea where the bathroom might be, Sportacus was forced to lay Robbie down in the armchair and began removing the man’s clothing. It was a breach of privacy, but he needed to get the cooler air on his skin somehow.

 

               Sportacus forced himself not to linger on the newly revealed parts of Robbie’s body as he stripped off the man’s too-tall pants and black long-sleeved shirt. The pale skin, soft curves, and lanky limbs that he would’ve loved to see under any under circumstances. Under his shirt was another layer, some kind of tight compression vest, which the elf managed to pull off with slightly more difficultly, before feeling like Robbie had enough skin area exposed. No need to take off his underwear, the man deserved at least a little dignity.

 

               Locating a sink and a clean-ish rag, Sportacus began dabbing the damp rag on Robbie’s sweat-soaked skin. That got him a groan, an encouraging sign of life. He shifted Robbie onto his side a little, then caught sight of the man’s back and gasped. So this was what Robbie had been hiding all this time.

 

               Extending from just below his shoulder blades was another set of limbs, a little like arms but thin and atrophied. They were small, and resembled plucked chicken wings more than anything else. Patchy areas of black down covered the skin, and a few raggedy pinfeathers were hanging on here and there, but it was very clear that the wings were not in good shape at all.

 

               “Oh, Robbie,” Sportacus breathed, unable to help reaching out to gently touch one of the appendages. It immediately twitched away from his hand, and the man made a pained moan. Well, now he knew why Robbie suffered from chronic back pain. Though he knew the town villain had magic abilities, perhaps more than he even realized, the elf had never imagined that Robbie might be non-human. Like him.

 

               “W-what?” Robbie coughed suddenly, eyes opening as he looked around in confusion. He was apparently back in his lair, underground, though he still felt like there was a fire burning inside him. He hated summer, it was too damned hot.

 

               “You collapsed from heat exhaustion, Robbie.” Sportacus was abruptly there in front of him, dabbing at his forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “You shouldn’t go outside in black long-sleeves when the weather is this hot.”

 

               Robbie wanted to argue, that he hadn’t slept in two days and had been far too tired to even think about choosing different clothes, but the damp rag on his face felt far too good. He shifted slightly, and froze when he felt cool air against his bare torso. Looking down, Robbie was horrified to see that he was clad only in his boxers and nothing else. “Hey, my clothes?! What did you do?!”

 

               “I had to get you out of them to cool you off.” Sportacus had worried this would be his response. “I’m sorry, Robbie, but you were overheating and I had to do something.”

 

               A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature went through Robbie as he realized that his chest was uncovered, and by extension his back. Which meant that- “You saw.”

 

               “I did,” Sportacus grew more solemn, sitting down cross-legged on the floor for a lack of anywhere else. “We need to talk.”

 

               A year ago, Robbie would’ve refused and thrown the hero out of his lair. But, their relationship had changed a little. Gradually, Robbie had come to accept that Sportacus actually cared about him, liked him, considered him a good friend. So instead, he just sighed. “What’s there to know? I’m part. . . fae I guess. Don’t know how much. Not enough to do anything useful, just disguises and such. Plus I have these- these _things_.”

 

               Sportacus was surprised at the amount of vehemence Robbie put into that one word. “What happened to them? I can tell they cause you pain, but I’ve known other _huldufólk_ and wings shouldn’t hurt unless something is very wrong. Have you seen anyone about it?”

 

               “Nothing happened to them, they’ve always been this way. Shriveled, ugly.” Robbie hated his wings, they had forced him to hide all his life. “What am I supposed to do, go to a doctor and ask them to look at my wings? I’ll end up on the dissection table.”

 

               Sportacus winced at the reminder of how some humans treated their hidden neighbors. “What about your parents?”

 

               Robbie went silent, and Sportacus was beginning to think he’d gone too far when the other man spoke in a very soft voice that made even the elf lean forward. “My mother said that fairies took her good little boy and left me instead. Then she left me at an orphanage, where no one wanted me.”

 

               “You’re a changeling.” Sportacus realized suddenly. A non-human child traded for a human one;  no wonder Robbie had difficulty connecting with other people. He had thought the practice of stealing human children had died out decades ago, but clearly some _huldufólk_ still did it.

 

               Robbie shrugged. He had researched over the years, reading every book he could get his hands on about magical folk, and that was the only conclusion he’d come to. Except that in the legends, a changling child abandoned by their human parents was always retrieved by their fae parents. Robbie, however, had been raised in that orphanage until he aged out of the system. No one had wanted him, not his human parents and not his fae ones.

 

               It took every fiber of Sportacus’ being not to reach forward and pull Robbie into a hug. The other man probably wouldn’t appreciate that, and didn’t need the extra body heat besides. But he did take Robbie’s hands, rubbing his thumbs across the back of the other man’s hands encouragingly. “I’m sorry, Robbie. But I want to help you. My mother is a healer, maybe she knows something that can be done.”

 

               “I don’t think anything can be done.” Robbie looked away, though he didn’t pull his hands from Sportacus’ grasp.

 

               “We won’t know unless we try.” Sportacus bounded to his feet, always positive. “Now then, we need to get some water into you. And healthy food! We can’t have you collapsing again.”

 

               Robbie gave his token protests as Sportacus attempted to wheedle him into drinking an entire glass of water and cut up a banana to try and feed to him between pieces of candy. That wasn’t so successful, but at least Robbie wasn’t dwelling on the negative anymore. Instead, he was shaking his head and trying his hardest to look disgusted as he did his best to avoid getting a banana slice in his mouth. Soon, he was exhausted enough to be yawning in his chair. Sportacus gently placed a blanket over him, then retreated back to the airship to write a letter. Hopefully, his mother would know what to do.   


	2. Chapter 2

 

               Robbie sat in his armchair, bent over with his elbows on his knees as his back twinged in pain. His shoulderblades felt like they were on fire, and the throbbing ache wouldn’t let him sleep. This happened whenever he unbound his wings, or let them move in any way. He would’ve just kept wearing his compression vest, but it made it hard to breathe and he couldn’t sleep in it.

                As he shifted position, his wings attempted to stretch out and made white-hot pain lance through his back. Once again, Robbie mused on how utterly useless his wings were. He couldn’t even move them, all they did was sit there and hurt and look hideous.

                Laying uncomfortably on his front in the armchair, Robbie tried to ignore the pain in his back and find sleep. And, in the back of his head, prayed that Sportacus was successful in finding something, _anything_ , that would help.

 

              

                Up in his airship, Sportacus was doing pushups idly as he awaited a response from his mother. He hadn’t seen Robbie in several days, but his crystal hadn’t acted up so presumably the man was okay. Probably just hiding. Sportacus almost wished his crystal would beep, just to give him an excuse to go see the other man, though he’d never wish to see Robbie in danger.

 

               He had just moved to doing sit-ups instead, alternating sides, when there was a thump against the airship that made him pause. Sportacus hopped to his feet and called for the door, only slightly startled when a large hawk flew in and deposited a package at his feet. The response from his mother, finally.

               Sportacus stooped down and picked up the package, then held out one arm for the hawk to land on. “Thank you, mother. I promise I’ll visit soon.”

               The hawk nodded and let out a soft chirp before vanishing, the job of the magical construct completed now that it had finished its delivery.

               Opening the package, Sportacus found a small ceramic jar filled with a sweet-smelling paste and a short letter from his mother.

                _‘Dearest Son,_

_I am glad you are well, and I am sorry to hear of your fae friend. Though I have not known any to have suffered such a level of wing- atrophy, I hope that this cream will help. Rub it into the wings and skin of the upper back once a day, along with a healing spell. Do not bind them down until the pot is gone. It should stimulate the muscles and encourage feather growth while relieving pain._

_Do tell me how your friend gets on, and bring him home so I can meet him some time! He sounds wonderful._

_Your mother’_

Sportacus reddened as he folded up the letter, knowing full well that by “bring him home” she meant “so I can start planning the wedding.” His mother was a lovely woman, but didn’t entirely approve of his extended stay in the human world. Young elves were supposed to go experience the human world for a year or two, then come back home to the village. Sportacus, however, had stayed out much longer than most elves due to his post as the protector of a human town. He did miss his family and friends back at Alfheim, but his mission in the human world was not done yet.

                Putting that thought aside, Sportacus instead steered his airship towards the billboard on the outskirts of town. It was time to check on Robbie.

 

 

               Down in his lair, Robbie Rotten was drifting in that odd, semi-conscious state between waking and sleep. It was closer to rest than he’d gotten in the last several days, though still nowhere near good enough.

               Just as he felt like he might finally be getting somewhere, there was a loud banging from above. Robbie groaned and put a pillow over his head, hoping whoever it was would just go away. The banging came again, then there was a pause before one of the overhead pipes rattled and shot out a blue blur.

               “Uuuugh.” Robbie groaned, turning to regard Sportacus with blurry, red-rimmed eyes. “Can’t you just go away and let me sleep?”

                “I’m sorry, Robbie.” Sportacus said softly, kneeling beside the armchair. It looked as though the other man hadn’t slept since last the elf had visited. “But my mother sent me something that should help with the pain, and heal your wings.”

                “Great,” Robbie mumbled. “Leave it next to the chair, I’ll get to it later.”

               “Robbie. It has to be massaged into your back. Unless you can reach your own shoulderblades-“ Sportacus wasn’t about to let his friend try to wiggle out of being helped. He had a very real opportunity to make his friend feel better, if only Robbie weren’t so stubborn.

                The man sighed heavily, weighing his options. His back did still hurt, twinging whenever he tried to move, and Sportacus was there. So friendly and open and willing to help. But it would require Sportacus to touch him, to touch his _wings_ , which he had never allowed anyone else to do.

                Finally, the desire to be free from pain won out, and Robbie wiggled around in the chair to present his bare back to Sportacus. “This’d better work.”

               “It will.” Sportacus promised, opening the jar of salve and scooping out a dollop with his fingers. “Sorry if this is a bit cold.” 

               Robbie hissed when the elf’s fingers, covered in cool cream, pressed to his back right between his wings. The sound changed to a relieved groan, though, when a surge of warmth went through him and the pain suddenly vanished. He could still feel his wings, they just didn’t hurt for the first time in his life.

                “Is that better?” Sportacus asked as he used his fingers to rub in the salve along Robbie’s wings, concentrating some of his magic into his fingertips to try and help heal the damaged, atrophied muscles. He could immediately tell something had changed because the wings, formerly held folded tightly against Robbie’s back, suddenly relaxed and allowed him to move them.

               “Mmm, much,” Now that there wasn’t pain to keep him from sleep, Robbie felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Another minute and he was snoring loudly into his armchair.  

               With a chuckle, Sportacus rubbed in the last of the salve and draped a blanket lightly over the other man. He really did need to get Robbie a bed, but for now, he was just satisfied to see the man sleeping. He deserved it.

 

 

 

               The next day, Robbie found himself beset by something less agonizing than the pain that had plagued him but no less irritating. His whole back _itched_. It itched and there was nothing he could do about it because he just couldn’t reach all the way back there to scratch it.

                When Sportacus arrived in the late afternoon, he was surprised and a bit amused to find Robbie, dressed in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, rubbing his back against one of the walls of his lair desperately. Walking over, the elf took the other man’s arms and tugged him away from the wall. “Robbie, what are you doing?”

                “This is your fault!” Robbie grouched as he was pulled away and set down in his chair. “You and that stupid paste of yours.”

                “Does your back hurt again?” Sportacus asked in concern as he pulled out said pot of paste. He didn’t know whether the salve’s pain-relieving properties were temporary or not, and hated to think that Robbie had been down here hurting.

                “A little.” After some hours, a dull ache had returned to his wings, but nothing compared to the level it had been at before. Nothing compared to what was going on now. “But now IT. ITCHES.”

                “Itches?” Sportacus leaned forward to take a better look at the other man’s wings, gently taking one and stretching it out. Soon, the source of the irritation was clear: feathers were beginning to grow in where there had once just been bare skin. The delicate feathers still had a protective sheath, making them look more like little spikes, but it was an encouraging sign. “It’s just your feathers growing in, Robbie. I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable.”

                “Feathers?” Robbie twisted, trying to get a look at his back but failing. “What do you mean, feathers? I’m growing more of them?”

                “Of course! That’s the whole idea, right? To heal your wings and help them grow.” Sportacus couldn’t wait to see Robbie in full plumage, he bet it would be a glorious sight. Would it be all black, or would he have variations of color in his secondaries and primaries? Sportacus couldn’t wait to find out.

                “No, the idea was to make them stop hurting so I can hide them easier.” The absolute last thing Robbie wanted was for his wings to _grow_. It was hard enough to bind them down as it was.

                “Don’t you want them to be healthy?” Sportacus was confused. Did he really want his wings to stay as they were; shriveled and useless? “You shouldn’t bind them down all the time, that’s why they’re so bad in the first place.”

                “I can’t go out in public with wings hanging off my back!” Robbie exclaimed. ‘The people in town think I’m a freak as it is.”

                “They do not!” Sportacus said firmly. “Robbie, the people in town like you. The kids have fun when you play with them. You just make it hard because you spend all your time down here and never interact with people unless you’re in a disguise. You can come outside without hiding yourself, people won’t think any different of you.”

                “Says the elf who still wears his hat over his ears.” Robbie said bitterly, the comment hitting a little too close to home. He reached forward and snatched Sportacus’ hat from his head, making the elf give a short cry of surprise. “If you walk around like this, will the people still treat you as one of them? When it’s so obvious that you’re different.”

                Sportacus went quiet, not having an immediate answer for that. Because Robbie had a point. Instead, he just picked up the jar of salve and gestured for Robbie to turn around. The other man did so reluctantly, muscle of his back tense and tight as Sportacus gently laid hands between his wings.

                “If I go out into town without my hat-“ Sportacus said quietly as he began to work in the salve, kneading the tight muscles and focusing his magic to his fingers. “If I walk around with my ears and everything showing. Will you come outside without your wings bound?”

                Robbie snorted, though he unwillingly felt himself relaxing as warmth from the other man’s hands spread through his back. Sportacus was carefully moving his hands through the new feathers, plucking away the protective sheaths and letting the delicate down unfurl. It felt so good, having the elf’s fingers back there stroking his feathers and massaging the joints of his poor wings.

                “One week.” Robbie finally said, as Sportacus placed the lid back on the jar and let his hands fall to his lap. “You go one week outside without your hat, and I’ll.  .. think about going out without binding my wings.”

               The elf’s smile could’ve lit up the underground lair single-handedly. “It’s a deal. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

                “Right. Tomorrow.”        


	3. Chapter 3

               Though he wouldn’t admit it, Sportacus actually felt nervous as he left his airship the next morning. True to his word, he had left his blue hat and goggles behind and was going out bare-headed. It felt weird, and wrong, he’d worn the hat for so long it was like a part of him, but if this is what it took to make Robbie feel better then so be it.

                The kids were quite surprised indeed to see their hero without his signature hat, tripping over each other to ask him where it went and why he didn’t have it. Trixie seemed quite certain that Robbie had stolen it, and was all ready to mount a rescue effort before Sportacus calmed them all down.

               “It’s alright, kids. I just didn’t want to wear it today. It’s, uh, too hot for hats.” Sportacus managed, coming up with an excuse quickly. “Now, what do you want to play today?”

                The kids immediately ran off to start setting up for a game of soccer (or more accurately, a game of ‘kick the ball to Sportacus so we can watch him do cool flips and tricks with the ball’). Well, all except Stephanie, who sidled up to the elf with a smile on her face.

                “I like being able to see you without your hat.” Stephanie mentioned, making Sportacus look down at her curiously.

                “Oh? And why is that?”

                “Because then I can see your ears! They’re really neat,” Stephanie said cheerfully. “I mean, our friend is an actual elf. How cool is that?”

                Kneeling down to her level, Sportacus pulled her into a hug. “You are a very sweet girl, Stephanie. Please, never change that.”

                “Uh, okay Sportacus.” Stephanie returned the hug, before running off after her friends. “Now come on, let’s go play soccer!”

                Sportacus nodded and cartwheeled after her, enjoying the feeling of the wind in his hair. Maybe it had been a good idea to take off his hat after all.

 

 

 

               Down in his lair, Robbie was wondering if perhaps he’d made a mistake in insisting Sportacus remove his hat. Because now the elf’s blonde, wavy locks were on full display. Robbie’s hands twitched, and the man longed to run his fingers through those soft, fluffy curls. Wanted to grab them and pull the elf’s head back to expose his throat and then-

                Robbie cut off that train of thought and jerked away from the periscope he’d been peering through, thoroughly disgusted with himself. He was supposed to be thinking about ways of getting the kids to stop cavorting about outside, not lusting over the town hero. Sportacus probably didn’t go for any of that stuff anyway, the elf was too innocent and good. Too pure to be with a man named Rotten.

                Growling, Robbie irritably swept a bunch of rubbish and half-done inventions off a table just for the satisfaction of hearing them crash to the ground. He was starting to get, dare he say it, cabin fever from being cooped up down here for so long.

                Marching over to the fridge, Robbie threw it open. Maybe some cake would make him feel better. Unfortunately, it had been days since he’d made a shopping run and the fridge was empty of all save a few cans of whipped cream and a half-drunk bottle of soda. As fond as he was of whipped cream, that didn’t exactly constitute a full meal.

                Of course, if he was to go out into town, what would he wear? Robbie knew he wasn’t supposed to bind his wings down (and couldn’t find his compression vest besides. He had a sneaking suspicion Sportacus had hidden it somewhere). But he couldn’t go out with his wings showing, he just couldn’t.

 

               Wandering over to his disguise tubes, Robbie pondered what was on display. He didn’t normally get up into a full disguise just to go to the grocery store, but his normal outfit would do nothing to conceal the awkward bulge on his back. After a moment, he saw something perfect. A variation on his cowboy outfit that included a poncho, drape-y enough to hide his outline, while not being so warm he’d overheat and die.

              Selecting the outfit, Robbie gave himself a spin and changed into the new clothes. He immediately felt rather uncomfortable, his wings had gotten used to being unrestricted and didn’t appreciate being stuffed back under layers of fabric, but there was nothing to be done for that. Summoning the mirror, Robbie looked at himself critically. He looked awful. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and there wasn’t a lick of makeup on his face. Unacceptable.

                The act of greasing his hair back and shading his eyes was a comforting routine, and Robbie felt a little closer to normal as he crept to the surface and out of his lair. The sun was too bright, the air warm, but Robbie just marched towards the grocery store and steadfastly ignored the sounds of laughter and play in the air. He was out here to get food, nothing more.

                Inside the store, Robbie made quick work of loading up on tv dinners, cake mix, and anything easily microwavable he could get his hands on. Enough to last him the next week, at least. Longer if he forgot to eat like he usually did.

                Walking back outside, Robbie was beginning to think that just maybe he’d be able to have a day out without any annoying elf or loud children when there was a cheery “Hi Robbie!” from somewhere above and Sportacus suddenly dropped down in front of him. Robbie about had a heart attack and his shopping bags hit the ground with a thud.

                “Christ, can’t you just _walk_ up like a normal person?” Robbie clutched his chest and took a few deep breaths to try and calm down.

                “Sorry, Robbie.” At least Sportacus seemed genuinely apologetic as he bent down and picked up the dropped shopping bags. “Getting groceries?”

                “Yes.” Robbie quickly snatched the bags before Sportacus could see their contents and lecture him on their lack of healthy contents or something similar. “I do go out and shop like normal people.”

                “In a cowboy costume?” Sportacus questioned.

                “Well I had to wear something. Since apparently I’m not supposed to strap down my, uh, _you-know-whats_.” Robbie shifted uncomfortably, trying to roll his shoulders without being too obvious about it. His wings had tried to flare instinctively when he’d been startled, and were now tangled up in his shirt under his poncho.

                Of course, Sportacus noticed, coming closer with concern painting his face. “Are you alright, Robbie?”

                “Fine, fine.” Robbie took a step back, having a hard time looking away from the golden hair and kind eyes so close to him. Sportacus’s ears twitched, and Robbie distantly wondered if they were sensitive enough to hear lies. Knowing his luck, probably.

                “Well. I have your, _treatment_ , here with me. Can I walk you back to your place?” Sportacus, thank fortune, didn’t force the issue. “I can carry your bags.”

                That was a very tempting offer. Robbie wasn’t looking forward to hefting all of his groceries all the way back to his lair. Before he could say anything, Sportacus had taken all of the heavy bags up in his hands as though they weighed nothing and was walking towards the outskirts of town.

                “So how has _everything_ been?”   Sportacus asked casually as they walked together. It took every ounce of self-control the elf had to go slowly enough for Robbie to keep up, and he couldn’t do any flips or acrobatic maneuvers to use up his energy with the grocery bags in his hands. “Has the itching gotten any worse? Or the pain?”

                Robbie grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss his _itching_ problem with Sportacus. “It’s. Fine.” Which was partially the truth. Things didn’t itch as bad, and the pain was down to a tolerable ache. As long as he didn’t move or touch his wings, he could almost forget they were there.

                “That’s great!” Sportacus said encouragingly. “I’m glad to see it’s working. I bet your wings will be really handsome when all the feathers have finished growing in.”

                Robbie nearly tripped, and just barely recovered with a flustered cough. Sportacus thought his wings were handsome? As opposed to disgusting, weird, or any of the hundred other negative adjectives Robbie had used for them over the years? “Do. Do you really think so?” He asked softly, hardly able to believe it.

                “Of course.” Sportacus said firmly. “They’re a part of you, which makes them wonderful. I only wish I knew sooner, so that you didn’t have to live in pain for so long.”

                Robbie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He could tell Sportacus was being utterly sincere, the elf wasn’t capable of lying, but the entire notion that his wings could be ‘wonderful’? Was so foreign to Robbie he had trouble even comprehending it.

 

              

               Once they reached his lair, Robbie did his best to quickly shove everything he had bought into the fridge. He could sense Sportacus’s disapproval of his purchases, even though the elf never said anything, and an unfamiliar feeling of shame crept over him. He didn’t want to care what Sportacus thought, didn’t want to be guilted into eating, uck, _healthy_ things, but for some inexplicable reason he did care. He cared a lot.

                “Alright, well, get on with it.” Robbie grouched as he peeled off his poncho and shirt, turning to sit down backwards in his chair so Sportacus could access his back.

                “You should start doing stretches,” The elf commented casually as he reached up to touch the very tense muscles of Robbie’s back. “It isn’t good for you to be active without warming up first, you might pull something or injure yourself.”

                “Since when am I ever active?” Robbie sneered, though he couldn’t help but be reminded of every time he had tried to move too fast, or lift something too heavy, and felt something go out in his back or his legs with a painful pop.

                “Oh come on, Robbie. You can be very active.” Sportacus pressed his fingers into the knot of muscles between Robbie’s wings, working in the pale pink cream until it went transparent and was absorbed into the skin. “I think you’re one of the busiest people in LazyTown. Always inventing, or creating. The kids love it when you come up and play with them. I’m no good at games of pretend, or at acting. But you are.”

                Robbie couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or offended. He wasn’t played _games_ with the children, he had elaborate schemes that just happened to involve costumes and make-believe and acting. . . all the things he wished he’d been able to do when he was young. With a groan, Robbie pressed his face into his hands. The elf was right, it was all just some big game of pretend. One which Robbie, dare he say it, actually _enjoyed_ sometimes. When he was totally into his character, and the kids were going along with whatever he said, it was fun. He felt included.

                Of course, that usually was wiped away when he was woken up from fitful sleep by the brats laughing and screaming aboveground. “I just. Want to sleep.” Robbie said after a long pause.

               “I’m sorry, Robbie.” Sportacus said softly, not letting up on his massage. “Has this been helping you sleep any better?”

                “A. A little,” Robbie half-shrugged. Though the pain was greatly lessened, years of insomnia created a difficult habit to break. He had managed to get some sleep here and there, though.

                “If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.” Sportacus said, so earnest it almost hurt. He was so eager to help, Robbie almost felt bad for commandeering all his time and energy and giving nothing in return. He didn’t deserve to have someone so amazing there for him.

                When Sportacus’s hands left his wings, Robbie grabbed a baggy sleep shirt and shrugged it on without turning around. “Thanks. You can go now.”

                Sportacus hesitated, not wanting to leave when Robbie seemed so sad, but eventually nodded and slipped out. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Robbie.”

                “Yeah.” Robbie whispered. “Tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- sorry about the short chapter, but had to get this scene out

               Sportacus spent much of the evening worrying about Robbie, to the point that his sleep was troubled and restless. He didn’t like not being to help someone. If only Robbie wasn’t so stubborn. So insistent on refusing help even when he needed it.

                Perhaps he’d been a bit foolish to think that what they had shared at Christmas would cause a complete change in Robbie, making them instant best friends. (and maybe something more) Sportacus knew he couldn’t change everything about Robbie, he didn’t even want to. The man wouldn’t be the same without his sweet tooth, or love of costumes, or grouchy nature.

                At the same time it hurt to think about Robbie continuing to live with his gnarled wings, hiding away in his bunker in pain. Sportacus was determined to prove to Robbie that Lazytown was a place that would accept him, flaws and inhuman features and all.

 

 

 

 

               Of course, that task would be difficult if Sportacus couldn’t get everyone to accept elves in their midst first. He was bent over someone’s garden fence, gently encouraging a creeping tomato vine to flourish, when a voice yelled “ _Alfr_!”

                Sportacus flinched and turned to see an old gentleman staring at him, leaning heavily on a stout wooden cane. If Sportacus had been up to no good, saying the true name of his kind with such authority would’ve stopped him dead in his tracks. As it was, the call simply caused an uncomfortable stinging sensation.

                “Oh, hello!” Sportacus put on his most friendly, disarming smile and attempted to look as nonthreatening as possible. “Just tending to the garden.”

                “You will not poison our plants, _Alfr_.” The man said in a heavy Scandanavian accent, “Nor will you take our children from us.”

                “I would never do either of those things. I am _Ljósálfr,”_ Sportacus reassured, using the old word for light elf in the hopes that would carry across the fact that he truly meant no harm. “You have my word.”

                “The word of _Huldufólk,_ ” The old man shook his head. “Trickery.”

                “Father!” Before Sportacus could come up with a response, a young woman ran out of the house and grabbed the older man by the arm. “I’m so sorry, Mister Sportacus. Come on, dad, let’s go back inside.”

                As the two went back into the house, Sportacus let out a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. For once, he wished he was a little better with words than with his body. Acrobatics and strength couldn’t solve everything.

 

              

 

               A quick game of tag with the kids helped Sportacus feel better, and he had managed to put the earlier encounter out of mind by the time he dropped down into Robbie’s lair. That was until he was greeted by the villain, who looked at him with a smirk and commented, “I see you’ve been out making new friends today.”

                It didn’t take long to realize just what he was talking about. Of course, Robbie probably seen everything earlier through one of his periscopes. Sportacus sighed. So much for his attempt to prove that everyone in Lazytown was accepting of non-humans. “It’s been a very long time since humans and hidden folk were at odds with each other, but some people are still. . . suspicious.”

                “Suspicious. And you want me to go out there with all of this showing.” Robbie gestured roughly at his back. He had spent all day altering a few shirts so that he could wear them without binding his wings (and thereby stop showing off his rather unimpressive chest and torso to Sportacus), but he still couldn’t picture going outside where other people could see. Could judge.

                “It isn’t possible to be friends with everyone.” Sportacus said earnestly. “But I know the kids wouldn’t mind, Robbie. I swear. They’d probably even think it’s cool to know an elf _and_ a faery. The mayor doesn’t care, and most of the people in town are still really friendly.”

                             Robbie let out a hum that sounded more like a low growl. It made Sportacus shiver to hear. “I said I’d consider it. It hasn’t been a week yet.”

                “Of course.” Sportacus was very sure he could convince Robbie to come outside, even if it took time. The elf wasn’t much for waiting, but he could manage it for a friend. “Why don’t I take a look at those wings?”

                Robbie turned to present his back in what was becoming a familiar, even comforting, routine. The back massages did feel nice, and he was often so relaxed after one he’d actually sleep. That alone was reason to let them continue. He was slightly less happy about the growth of his wings. They didn’t pull tight against his back nearly as well as they used to, and the new coating of down made him look rather like he had fuzzy pom poms sticking out of his back.

                The upside to the new feathers, though, was how soft they were. Robbie had always been drawn to soft things, finding comfort in the shag of his chair or the silk of his robe. The down covering his shoulders and upper wings was so nice to stroke and run his fingers through. It was a surprising source of stress relief.

                Having someone else’s fingers stroking his feathers was even better. Sportacus was surprisingly gentle as he aligned mussed feathers and applied healing salve to the skin underneath. Robbie felt boneless as he slumped in his chair, tension running out of his body. He let out a pleased groan, which was mirrored by an answering rumble from behind him.

                Heedless of the hands on his back, Robbie whipped around to stare at Sportacus and found the elf surprisingly close. The noise stopped, but Robbie knew what he’d heard. “Were you.. . purring?”

               The tips of Sportacus’ pointed ears flushed bright red, a sight Robbie found surprisingly endearing. “Well, yes.”

                “Elves purr?” What an. . . interesting discovery. Robbie wondered if he could coax the sound out again. Lifting one hand, he gave into the urge he’d had the last couple days and gently stroked Sportacus’ fluffy blonde hair. The elf closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, that cat-like rumble starting up again deep in his chest.

               “Elves purr. . . when we are happy.” Sportacus murmured, greatly enjoying the fingers in his hair. It got even better when they moved down to softly touch his ears. “Or. Content.”

                “Do you like giving me back massages that much?” Robbie had assumed Sportacus was doing this out of his usual heroic compulsion to help people, but he’d never purred when playing with the kids or saving kittens from trees.

               “I like spending time with you.” Sportacus said with a soft smile. “Especially when you aren’t trying to run me out of town. Especially when I can make you happy.”

                “Y-you-“ Robbie found himself uncharacteristically lost for words. Part of him was yelling that this was all a lie, a trick, just the same as every teenage girl back in school who told him he was cute only to turn around and run laughing back to her girlfriends because ‘she’d played a joke on the Rotten kid.’ But the other part of him knew that Sportacus never lied. The elf had been visiting him every day, rubbing his back, grooming his feathers, healing his pain, because he. . . liked doing it. Had made sure he was included at Christmas, had even _kissed_ him despite the fact that he could’ve just played it off like a joke.

                Sportacus felt his smile waver a bit the longer Robbie was silent. Had he overstepped his boundaries? Then, a little piece of his heart broke when he saw tears pool in the other man’s eyes before running silently down his cheeks.

                “Please don’t. Don’t cry.” Sportacus reached up and wiped a tear from Robbie’s pale cheek. “I’m sorry. But you should know that I like you. I like you very much, Robbie Rotten.”

                “I. I think I need some time to think.” Robbie managed to get out. This was all too overwhelming, too much to process at once.

                “Of course.” At least that wasn’t an outright rejection. That was as much as Sportacus could hope for. “May I come back tomorrow?”

               “We’ll see.” It was too soon for Robbie to be sure of anything yet. He needed to sleep on this, at the very least.

               “Okay. I’ll leave this here for you.” Sportacus set down the jar of salve on the table next to the armchair. Then, he just couldn’t resist pulling Robbie into a quick hug. “I’ll see you later, okay Robbie?”

               And then he was gone, up the pipes and out of the lair. The cavernous space felt all the emptier with his absence. Robbie curled up in his chair and stroked the shag fur over and over, letting the texture ground him as he tried not to think for a little while. There’d be plenty of time for that tomorrow.

 

              


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this while being kept awake by my own chronic pain condition. Somebody get me a buff elf and some magic paste

Sportacus awoke to the sound of rain gently pattering against the hull of his airship. It meant there probably wouldn’t be any playing outside today, the kids would most likely hole up in Pixel’s house to play video games and avoid the poor weather. As much as Sportacus enjoyed spending time with the kids, he had very little interest in sitting around watching them all stare at a screen and push buttons. Which meant he should have the day free to do a little maintenance work on his airship, exercise, and maybe go for a jog in the forest. He liked to try and go out to the forest on a semi-regular basis, to check in with the trees and the plants and the animals, and the rain meant everything would be especially alive.

Finishing up his morning exercises, Sportacus was just about to leave for the forest when his airship announced that he had mail and a tube popped up through the floor. Odd, the kids didn’t normally contact him when the weather was foul, knowing how little Sportacus liked sitting about inside.

Opening the tube, Sportacus was surprised to discover that the letter was not, in fact, from the children but from a farmer. He had apparently been having trouble with his livestock, and thought there was a magical culprit behind it. Given that Sportacus was the only magical creature around the townsfolk knew about, the farmer had come to him for help.

Though diagnosing sickened animals wasn’t exactly his expertise, Sportacus couldn’t ignore someone asking him for help. Fetching a raincoat, the elf called for the door and left to see if he could figure out what was going on.

 

 

Meanwhile, down in his lair, Robbie had decided he needed a distraction from his own thoughts. His many half-completed inventions had seemed a tempting option, but couldn’t seem to hold his attention for more than an hour or two at the time. He drifted from one task to another, fiddling with things here and there before getting distracted by another thing, until he found himself immersed in a stack of books from his library.

Over the years, Robbie had amassed a fairly sizable collection of books on magical humanoids from around the world, including the fae, elves, giants, and more. When his wings had started growing in during puberty, he had been desperate to figure out what he was and why these things were happening to him. He had devoured every book in the local public library, reading fairy tale after fairy tale but getting no concrete answers. (Though it had been enough for him to realize the previous hero, Number 9, was an elf, which didn’t endear him to the hero at all)

Now that he was older and able to expand beyond the offerings of the local library, Robbie had collected a small library of texts on the subject. He went through these now, burying his face in book after book without even a concrete idea of what he was looking for.

Robbie paid closer attention to the tales of elves than he had last time he’d read the books, years ago. The reoccurring trend was that of elves seducing humans, stealing them back to their magical homes as mates, or of them stealing children, or coming out to dance humans to death. Elves would kidnap women to be their midwives, replace human children with their own, and sicken humans and livestock. It wasn’t promising.

It also didn’t sound like Sportacus. The sports elf was so honest and trusting it was almost painful. The people of Lazytown didn’t seem to be suffering for his presence, except for Robbie being forced to deal with the increased noise levels of children playing outside. No, everyone was disgustingly happy to have him around.

Elves of legend were said to be incredibly beautiful and fair (well, they got that part right, Robbie thought idly), with magical and physical abilities humans didn’t possess. No mention of them being obsessed with backflips and sports, but maybe Sportacus was just weird.

What did Sportacus want with him? Robbie kept hearing the elf’s accented voice from the night before, saying “I like you very much, Robbie Rotten” while his hand gently touched the other man’s face. Was he serious? Did that mean the same thing to elves as it did to humans? (Or not-quite-humans, in Robbie’s case?)

Was he to be some sort of concubine? (Ridiculous, why would an athletic, fit elf choose a lanky, unhealthy human for such a thing.) Maybe Sportacus had just meant “like” in the friend sort of way. Which wouldn’t be . . . awful. (Ignoring the nights that Robbie had woken sweat-soaked, not from nightmares but from other sorts of dreams. Dreams he very much wished would be a reality.)

Pulling down another book, dusty and old with tiny, cramped script, Robbie continued to read. He was so absorbed that he shut out everything around him, forgetting food, forgetting drink, and forgetting the treatment for his back.

 

 

Sportacus was fairly relieved when, at the end of the day, the issue the farmer had contacted him about turned out to be relatively simple to resolve. The farmer had managed to irritate the farm’s tomte, a small spirit representing the very first settler on the land who helped keep the farm healthy and productive. Except this one had taken away the protection and was causing the animals to become sick instead.

It was very unusual for a farm’s tomte to harm instead of help, but the reason soon became clear as Sportacus mediated between the farmer and the irked spirit. There was a new manure shed being built on the farm, and it was right over the tomte’s underground house.

Moving the half-completed building took the rest of the day, even for Sportacus and his elven strength and stamina, but by the end of it both farmer and tomte had made up and were on good terms. The farmer thanked Sportacus profusely, pushing gifts of cream, milk, and cheese onto the elf as a kind of payment even thought Sportacus insisted that really, he didn’t need to be paid to help people. He ended up accepting the gifts and placing them in the refrigerator up in his airship, then made his way to a certain billboard nearer to town.

The entrance to Robbie’s lair was quiet and still, and there was no response to Sportacus’ knocks. No annoyed yell of “What?!” or glaring periscope popping up from the ground. Clearly, Robbie didn’t want to see him. It was with a heavy heart that Sportacus returned to his airship for the evening and prepared for bed.

 

 

As the sun set, Sportacus was out like a light at 8:08 pm. It seemed like no time at all, however, before he was rudely awakened again by the blaring of his crystal. Who in the world could be in trouble in Lazy Town at this time of night? As Sportacus pulled on his boots, he wearily realized that it was just past midnight. If that cat was stuck in a tree again-

It wasn’t the kitten. A flash of intuition from his crystal showed him just who was in trouble, and Sportacus hastily called for the ladder and jumped to the ground before he was even fully dressed. Of all the people in town, it had to be Robbie. The crystal didn’t normally react to the man’s underground activities, which must mean he was in an especially bad state.

“Robbie?!” Sportacus ripped the lid of the entrance pipe clean off, destroying the locking mechanism, and jumped down inside. He looked around frantically as he hit the ground, but saw no sign of the man who resided there. “Robbie? Where are you?”

There was a faint groan from somewhere off in the dark reaches of the lair, and Sportacus was off like a shot. A hallway was hidden in the gloom, a single lit doorway leading to a large room strewn with dusty old books. And laying face down on the floor, surrounded by open books, was Robbie.

“Robbie, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Sportacus was at his side at an instant, examining the prone man for any sign of injury.

“Huuuuurts,” Came the long, drawn out groan in response. Robbie’s wings twitched weakly, giving a clue to the source of his distress. Clearly, he had been so caught up in reading he’d forgotten to apply the pain-relieving salve to his back.

“Well, let’s get you off the floor.” Sportacus picked up Robbie as gently as possible, murmuring reassurances with every sound of pain he got from the other man.

Out in the main room, Sportacus sat himself down in the fuzzy armchair and shifted Robbie into his lap. It was a little awkward, but he wasn’t entirely confident of Robbie’s ability to hold himself up at the moment. Taking some paste, he started rubbing it into Robbie’s shoulder blades. Slowly, the man began to relax, growing sleepy and lethargic as the pain that had plagued him faded.

“Are you okay now?” Sportacus inquired, giving Robbie a little shake as he felt the man falling asleep. It wouldn’t do either of them any good for Robbie to fall asleep in his lap, as adorable as it was.

“Mmm. . . yeah. Think so.” Robbie managed. He was just so comfortable, he didn’t want to move.

“You would sleep much better in an actual bed.” Sportacus pointed out, though he knew that Robbie didn’t have one. He was very reluctant to leave Robbie alone, however, especially not to try and sleep in his ridiculous armchair.

“Don’t have a bed.” Robbie pointed out tiredly. He hadn’t owned one in years, having discovered trying to sleep in a bed tended to just create sleepless nights of tossing, turning, and nightmares.

“Well I do. You can use mine.” Sportacus’s tone booked no argument as he stood, still holding Robbie in his arms. He was going to get Robbie to sleep a full night somehow or another.

Getting up and out of the lair with a full-grown man in his arms wasn’t the easiest task in the world. Attempting to climb the ladder to the airship would be even harder, so Sportacus called for it to land in the field next to the billboard. Then he was able to just step up through the door and set Robbie into his bed. The man looked strange and pale against the stark white sheets, though Sportacus was satisfied to see Robbie snuggle into the blankets instead of protesting.

As annoyed as Robbie would normally be about being bodily carried about by Sportacus he couldn’t deny that he was comfortable. And exhausted. Between a lack of sleep the previous night, spending all day buried in books with no food or water, and the intense pain flare up, he didn’t have the energy to do anything but enjoy the soft bed and softer comforter. For all the impersonal, white coldness of the airship, the elf had a very nice bed.

Though he was tempted to just go straight to sleep, Robbie did notice one thing. “Wait. Where will you sleep?”

Sportacus shrugged. That was one of the downsides of the airship, it wasn’t really built for having guests over. “There’s always the pilot’s chair.” Which was uncomfortable enough when he was using it for its intended purpose, but he’d manage somehow.

Robbie frowned and, before he could change his mind, shifted a little more towards one side of the bed and patted the free space. “Last thing this town needs is a tired elf. You know you’re useless if you don’t sleep.”

Well, Sportacus couldn’t deny that. He slipped off his boots, then carefully climbed under the covers next to Robbie. The bed was quite small, making it nigh impossible to lie side-by-side without touching, though the elf did his best. He closed his eyes and was soon out like a light, Robbie following not long afterwards.

 

 

 

Robbie’s eyes shot open, breathing hard as he tried to recognize where he was. The nightmare that had woken him faded into confusing images and impressions, mixed with the unfamiliar space he was in now. Robbie reached out for the familiar comfort of his chair, only for his fingers to encounter much softer. Something was pressed against him, something that was vibrating with a low rumble.  


Looking down, Robbie could make out Sportacus’ face in the darkness. The elf was curled against his chest, his wavy blonde hair being the silky soft thing Robbie’s hand was petting. The purring got louder as Robbie continued to stroke his hair, and the man let the sound chase his nightmares away and lull him back to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

 

               Robbie awoke slowly, enjoying the plush blanket wrapped around his form and the warmth it offered. After a moment, though, he realized that something wasn’t quite right. Something was missing. He was alone in bed, no sign of the buff elf who had cuddled up against him in sleep.

                At least, no sign of him in the bed. Sportacus was fairly easy to locate once Robbie opened his eyes and looked towards the sound of carefully timed exhales that were rather loud in the otherwise silent airship.

                “Good morning, Robbie.” Sportacus greeted, not pausing in the hand stand push-ups he was doing. As Robbie watched incredulously, Sportacus raised one hand off the ground and continued one-handed. “How did you sleep?”

                “Fine.” Robbie said hesitantly, just waiting for Sportacus to say something about him petting the elf’s hair the night before.

                Instead of bringing it up, though, Sportacus hopped to his feet and walked over to a table that projected out from the bulkhead. “Do you want breakfast? I know you probably wouldn’t want any sportscandy, so I went to your lair and got something.”

                Robbie was caught between gratefulness that he wasn’t about to be force fed fruit and irritation that Sportacus had gone down into his lair without him. “You did what?”

                “Sorry, Robbie.” Sportacus at least seemed genuinely apologetic. “But it didn’t seem like you’d eaten anything yesterday. You should drink some water as well, being dehydrated isn’t good for you.”

                “I’m used to it.” Robbie scoffed, ignoring the sorrowful look he got in response. “At least tell me you got something good.”

                “Waffles okay?” Sportacus picked up a plate from the table and brought it over to the bed. On it were two waffles, crispy and freshly cooked, with a topping of melted butter and sliced bananas.

               Robbie sneered at the sight of sportscandy tainting his breakfast, but couldn’t deny the very eager grumble his stomach gave at the sight and smell of food.

                Sportacus smiled in satisfaction as Robbie began to shovel down the waffles, perching on the edge of the bed with an apple for his own breakfast. It’d been a risk adding the bananas when he knew how much Robbie hated fruits and vegetables, but it seemed to be paying off. “You know, you might like fruit more if you added it to other foods you already like.”

                Robbie let out a non committal grumble, not wanting to admit that maybe the elf was right. The banana slices weren’t an entirely awful addition to his waffles. Instead of coming up with a response, he finished off the plate and set it aside. With a full stomach, he now felt slightly more alive. Groaning loudly, Robbie stretched his arms above his head and let his wings extend out to their full span, which now approached ten feet.

                Lifting the plate safely out of the way, Sportacus let himself enjoy the sight of the other man’s wings spread out behind him. Longer primary feathers were starting to grow in, making the extra appendages look less awkward and more graceful. The new feathers were a shiny, iridescent black, strongly reminiscent of a great raven. It seemed appropriate.

                More concerning were the loud pops and cracks from Robbie’s joints as he stretched. He twisted slightly and his back gave a particularly loud “CRACK!” that made Sportacus wince.

                “Robbie,” Sportacus suggested slowly, “Why don’t you do some stretches with me? It will help you be less stiff.”

                Robbie narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “Why should I? That sounds like a lot of work.”

                “It’s not, really,” Sportacus held up his hands in a placating gesture, “In fact, I find stretching to be very relaxing.”

                Pursing his lips, Robbie seriously considered the offer. Finally, he pulled back the blankets and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Alright, what do I have to do?”

                “Come join me on the floor,” Sportacus sat down, placing one leg out in front of him and tucking in the other. After a moment, Robbie copied him. “Now, see if you can touch your toes.”

                Sportacus bent over effortlessly, wrapping a hand around his foot and pressing his nose to his knees. Robbie attempted the same, though ended up with his hand stretched fruitlessly outwards nowhere near his foot. Grumbling and muttering, Robbie straightened and tried again, lunging forward to try and use the momentum to get a few more inches. His wings flapped with the effort, clipping Sportacus in the back of the head when the elf straightened from his own stretch.

               “This. Isn’t. Working.” Robbie complained through grit teeth, legs and back already feeling sore.

                “Robbie, you don’t have to work so hard.” Sportacus brushed the wing out of his face and knelt next to the other man. “Bend from here, don’t hunch your back.” He put one hand on Robbie’s lower back and gently pressed.

                Robbie’s feathers fluffed up at the touch on his lower back, a shiver going up his spine, but he obediently bent where the elf’s hand was and suddenly found his toes within reach. Triumphantly, he felt his fingertips touch his toes. “HaHAH! I did it!”

                “Yes, you did. Very good job, Robbie.” Sportacus smiled, not moving his hand and pressing lightly to encourage Robbie to hold the pose.

                The man flushed at the praise, feathers ruffling unconsciously. He had dreams like this sometimes. Ones where Sportacus was there, looking at him adoringly and telling him he was doing a good job and how proud he was. If it weren’t for the burning sensation in the back of his leg, Robbie might’ve thought this _was_ a dream.

                Sportacus slowly counted to ten, then had Robbie switch legs. Slowly, his hand drifted up to run through the black covert feathers that flowed down Robbie’s back. They had just grown in, and were silky soft. He grinned when he heard Robbie’s breathing hitch in response, considering it payback for the hair petting the night before.

 

 

                Robbie had to admit, the stretching was actually sort of relaxing. He just sat there, slowly moving until things were a bit uncomfortable, and staying there while listening to Sportacus’s accented voice count to ten. There was, of course, also the bonus of having the elf’s hands on him, moving him into each new position. Sportacus had such strong, warm hands, roughed by calluses from years of hard work and use, and Robbie felt a chill in their place whenever the elf removed his touch.

                “Well, do you feel better, Robbie?” Sportacus asked when they finished all the stretches. He was honestly impressed with how well Robbie had done, despite the man’s disdain for anything resembling exercise.

                “Uh. Yeah, actually.” Robbie said with some surprise. Sure, he was a bit sore, but it was better than being stiff and creaky like he usually was.

                “That’s great!” Sportacus said enthusiastically. “If you like, I can come stretch with you every morning. If you keep it up, soon you’ll be able to do this.” Without warning, he suddenly fell down into a perfect split and reached forward to wrap both hands around his leading foot.

                   “Why would I want to?” To Robbie it just looked painful, though he was somewhat in awe of just how flexible the elf was.

                “Because it’s fun.” Sportacus popped back to his feet, finding himself suddenly very close to Robbie. He reddened a little, licking his lips and staring up at the other man’s face. “Robbie. Could I- Would you mind-?”

                Robbie raised an eyebrow at the sight of the elf uncharacteristically at a loss for words. Had he done something wrong? Was there something on his face? “What is it?”

               “I would very much like to kiss you.” Sportacus admitted softly. “May I?”

                “Y-you want to what?” Robbie flushed bright pink, hardly able to believe his ears. “I mean, sure? I guess?”

                A smile broke out on Sportacus’s face, and he went up onto his tip-toes so that he could give Robbie a gentle kiss on the lips. The man froze, shocked despite having given his permission, before slowly relaxing and reciprocating. His wings bent forward to envelope Sportacus, who laughed into Robbie’s mouth and wrapped his arms around the man in response. It was very chaste, and sweet, until Sportacus’s hands drifted downward to give Robbie’s butt a quick squeeze. The man broke away with a surprised squeak.

               “Sorry, sorry.” Sportacus pulled back, a little breathless and dizzy from the kiss. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

               “My butt?” Robbie questioned, carefully untangling the elf from his wings so he could fold them against his back.

               “It’s a very nice butt.” Sportacus commented.

                “I guess you’re right,” Robbie twisted, but couldn’t get a look at his posterior. He’d always thought of himself as being rather flabby, but if Sportacus, who had the ass of a Greek God, said he had a nice butt then it must be true.

                “Of course I am.” Sportacus grinned, though it faded slightly after a moment. “We should probably talk. About. . . things.”

                “Yeah, I guess we should.” Robbie fidgeted awkwardly. He had said he’d sit and think about what Sportacus had said. About liking him very much. Instead, he’d buried himself in books to avoid it. But the thought of spending more time with Sportacus wasn’t as objectionable as it used to be. In fact, he thought he might even like it.

                “But not right now. I promised the kids I’d help them built a fort today,” The airship wasn’t the right place for this anyway. “How about we get together tonight? Say, a picnic? In the forest outside of town?”

                “Are . . . you asking me on a date?” Robbie asked incredulously.

               “I guess I am.” Sportacus responded with a little laugh, “If that’s okay?”

                “It’s fine.” It might even be fun. At least it meant Robbie wouldn’t have to make anything for dinner. “But don’t think because you got me to eat bananas this morning it means I’ll have sportscandy for dinner.”

               “No, of course not.” Sportacus was already thinking about what he could make. “You’ll like it, I promise.”

                “I’ll hold you to that.” Robbie warned as the elf called for the airship door and they made their way outside. (Thank god the airship was still on the ground)

 

               The two parted ways, Sportacus going into town and Robbie heading back to his lair. Back in his home, the panic finally set in. He was going on a date. An actual date. His first ever. And with Sportacus of all people! What would he wear? What would they talk about? What if it was a disaster. This was a terrible idea.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I like to drop into the splits randomly just to make my friends freak out. You can't tell me Sportacus doesn't do the same thing.


	7. Chapter 7

The longer Robbie stood in his lair and contemplated his impending date with Sportacus, the more certain he became that this would only end badly. For one, Robbie hadn’t yet altered most of his clothing to accommodate his wings, for two, they’d be outside, even if there wasn’t anyone else around, for three Sportacus would probably cook something awful and healthy that Robbie couldn’t eat. Thereby offending the elf and ending any chance at a relationship. 

It scared Robbie to think that he actually wanted a relationship with Sportacus. Because he did. For as much as the elf’s boundless energy and enthusiasm sometimes annoyed him, Robbie found himself wanting to wake up every morning to that smiling face. That calm voice, telling him how well he was doing. Spending every night in the arms of someone who could soothe away his nightmares and heal his pain. 

Well, nothing would get done if he stood there and panicked. First things first, he needed something to -wear-. Robbie went over to his disguise tubes, contemplating the options offered, before selecting something. The shirt would need to have the back cut out, as much as Robbie hated to do such a thing to nice silk, with a matching vest that would need to be similarly altered. An enormous purple coat would look a little strange over top, and probably be too hot for the weather, but at least would conceal his wings for the walk out to the forest. The growth of primary feathers meant that his wingtips now hung near his knees when folded against his back, and they were still getting longer. Soon, they would be nigh-impossible to hide. Robbie wasn’t really looking forward to it. 

 

Sportacus, meanwhile, was just as worried as Robbie, although for different reasons. The town villain was notoriously flighty and nervous, and Sportacus wanted to make sure that everything went absolutely perfectly. He intended to make an official request for courtship, which meant he had to prove he was worth considering as a mate. Courting with the intention to become life-mates was a long, formal process amongst elves, and though Sportacus knew that Robbie wouldn’t be able to appreciate the cultural implications he still wanted to do it right. 

“Sportacus, is something wrong?” Stephanie watched with concern as the elf, a distant look on his face, managed to hit his thumb with a hammer instead of the intended nail. They were trying to build a new fort, but Sportacus was being a bit more of a hindrance than a help. “You’ve been distracted all morning.”

The elf winced, partially because of the pain but also because he should’ve guessed the kids would notice that something was wrong. He was just grateful that the others were too busy arguing over how best to decorate their new fort to overhear Stephanie. 

“I am distracted,” Sportacus admitted quietly. Talking about his love life with an 11 year old wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun conversation, but figured he should tell the girl something. If things went well, it wasn’t like he’d be able to hide having a relationship from the whole town anyway. “I have a date tonight, and I’m worried I might mess it up.”

“A date?” Stephanie exclaimed, staring at the hero incredulously. The only adult she knew that ‘dated’ was her Uncle, though that probably wasn’t the best term for his awkward relationship with Bessie. “With who?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. I’m not sure they would want everyone to know.” As much as Sportacus wanted to shout that he loved Robbie Rotten to the heavens, he was fairly certain Robbie didn’t want this getting out. 

“Well, you should bring her flowers.” Stephanie said with all the confidence of a pre-teen. “Girls love flowers.”

Sportacus chuckled in amusement. “I’m not going out with a girl, Stephanie. Although, I suppose boys can like flowers too.”

“You’re going out with a boy?” Stephanie looked vaguely confused, as though the thought that boys could date other boys hadn’t quite occurred to her. After a moment, she shrugged. “Well, then you should be fine. You’re a boy, you know what boys like.”

“Not this boy. He’s not like anyone else.” Sportacus thought about Robbie, about his brilliant mind, and sarcastic wit, and amazing talents. The elf brought up his hammer and went to pound in a nail on the fort again, this time hitting the nail-head but with a bit too much enthusiasm. The piece of wood split neatly in half with a loud crack!, making Sportacus stare at it in surprise. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to help the kids build a fort today after all. 

 

Once clothing alterations were finished, a task that hadn’t eaten up as much time as Robbie had hoped, the man looked for something else to do to distract himself. He didn’t want to spend all afternoon sitting and worrying in his armchair. On top of that, a dull ache was spreading from his shoulder-blades up his wings, and keeping busy was the best way to deal with such things. 

Eventually, Robbie found himself in the kitchen. Might as well make something for lunch. Then, as Robbie waited for the microwave, it occurred to him that just maybe he should bring something to the picnic too. Something a little more impressive than chicken nuggets. 

Picking up an enormous cookbook, Robbie started flipping through the pages for something suitably sugar-free. As much as it pained him to bake a dessert without copious amounts of sugar, rendering the other person unconscious on a first date was probably not a great idea. 

 

Several hours later, Robbie was covered in a layer of flour and cocoa powder, but had managed to create a suitable cake that did not contain processed sugar, and which also didn’t taste like cardboard. He was quite proud of himself as he removed his creation from the oven and set it in a tupperware container to keep it safe. He was still trying to get the flour out of his hair when there was a knocking on the pipes above. Crap, he’d lost track of time. 

“Hang on a minute!” Robbie called, magically projecting his voice up the many pipes of his home to reach the entryway hatch. He pulled down a mirror and hastily combed his hair back, looking critically at his makeup in the mirror and deciding to add a touch more lipstick before declaring himself adequate. Then, he threw on his coat, grabbed the cake, and teleported himself to the field above. No point messing with the ladder and the hatch when he had his hands full. 

Sportacus jumped slightly when Robbie suddenly materialized out of thin air right next to him (so that’s how the man got around town so quickly), but quickly recovered and managed not to drop the picnic basket he was holding in one hand. “Good evening, Robbie. Ready to go?”

“Y-yes. Yes. I am ready. To go.” Robbie tugged at his coat self consciously, making sure it covered every black feather, and lifted his box more securely into his arms. 

“What is that?” Sportacus asked curiously as they walked towards the forest on the outskirts of town. 

“Dessert.” Robbie answered simply. He relaxed slightly when they entered the forest, where they were far less likely to encounter townspeople, or worse, the children. It was a bit darker in here than he anticipated, though, the evening sun through the trees casting long shadows over the forest floor. Robbie unconsciously moved a little closer to Sportacus. 

“I can’t wait.” Sportacus said with a chuckle, reaching down to take Robbie’s hand with his own. Robbie went red, but squeezed lightly in response. 

 

The trail they were on slowly rose, trees thinning, until the two found themselves in a small clearing atop a hill that let them look over the forest to Lazytown in the distance. Sportacus set down the picnic basket and spread out a checkered blanket on the grass of the clearing. 

“Well, what do you think?” Sportacus sat down and patted the blanket in invitation. “It’s very private, you can let your wings out if you want.”

Robbie removed his coat and set it down, releasing their wings from their tight fold and stretching them out before settling down next to Sportacus. Though he had lived more than half his life with his wings folded tight underneath clothing, just a week of being let free and they now protested being bound for even a few hours. 

“It’s. Nice.” Robbie said at length, looking around. It was very calm and peaceful, the only sounds around the soft twitter of birdsong and the burbling of a stream nearby. No one around but the two of them. A breeze ruffled his feathers, which were happily soaking in the evening sun illuminating the clearing. 

“Here, I have some dinner for us.” Sportacus opened up the basket he had brought and set down a pair of plates and utensils. Then came a couple of glass bottles, the elf popping the caps off with a deft twist of his wrist before handing one to Robbie. 

“Beer?” Robbie asked incredulously, taking a cautious sip. Whatever it was, it was strong. And not any brew he recognized. 

“Elven beer.” Sportacus clarified. “I brought some with me from my homeland, but was saving it for a special occasion.”

“It’s good.” Robbie complimented, taking another sip. And unexpected. Robbie had assumed Sportacus would bring some kind of dumb healthy juice. 

“Old family recipe.” Sportacus said with a little smile. The next thing out of the basket were some warm, soft rolls that had already been buttered, their smell alone making Robbie’s mouth water. Then, the main course, a whole grilled salmon. 

“W-where did you even?” Robbie took a bite of the fish, eyes watering at the taste. It had been a very long time since he’d had anything not either drenched in sugar, or made in a microwave. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“Well. . .” Sportacus rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m not very good at it. I bought the salmon at the supermarket and had them prepare it. I did make the rolls, though. Mayor Meanswell helped.”

Okay, now that sounded about right. Still, Robbie appreciated the effort that had gone into finding food acceptable to them both. For a little while, the two sat in amiable silence as they ate their dinner. All too soon, though, the food was done and it was time to talk. Robbie gulped nervously as Sportacus shifted to sit in front of him. 

“Robbie. A few days ago, I told you that I like you. Though when we met, I saw you as another lazy resident who’s ways I had to change, it wasn’t long before I realized that you are funny, and brilliant, and incredibly inventive.” Though Sportacus had rehearsed what he wanted to say all day, in the heat of the moment all his words had vanished. All that was left was to speak from the heart. “What I am saying is, Robbie Rotten, I would like to court you. With your permission.”

“Wh-what?” That was not the declaration of ‘let’s be friends’ Robbie thought he was in for. Courship. It was an outdated term, but the intent was clear. “What does being courted involve?”

“We could do more like this. Go on dates. Share meals. Spend time together. Whatever you want.” Sportacus hadn’t been outright rejected, which meant he had a real chance to make this work. “And, if we decide we’re compatible. We enter a life-bond.”

A life-bond. It sounded scary. But it also meant this wasn’t some flight of fancy. Sportacus was willing to spend the entire rest of his life with him. Scary, but thrilling.

“Okay. You can court me.” Robbie nodded decisively. A smile spread across Sportacus’s face, so happy it threatened to light up the entire clearing. There were tears at the corners of the elf’s eyes as he leaned forward to kiss Robbie, spilling down his cheeks from sheer joy. Robbie couldn’t help but join in, even when their kiss broke apart and Sportacus pressed their foreheads together instead. 

“So. . .” Robbie said at length. “Does this make us boyfriends?”

Sportacus gave a watery chuckle. “I guess it does.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from Robbie. “Now. Did you say something about dessert?”

“That’s right!” Robbie grabbed the neglected box he had brought and opened it up to reveal the cake he had make. “I baked it earlier. It’s sugar free, should be safe for you.”

Just when Sportacus thought he couldn’t love Robbie any more, the man surprised him. The elf cut a slice for himself, and a slightly more generous slice for his boyfriend, before taking his first bite. It was sweet, more so than anything Sportacus normally ate, but he didn’t feel the accompanying drop of an impending sugar crash. There was enough preservatives and heavily refined food products in it to make him feel a little light headed, but he could eat it. 

“I love it, Robbie. Thank you.” 

 

After a while, the slices of cake were finished and the leftover desert returned to the box. Night was falling, which meant they should probably make their way back into town. The picnic supplies were packed back up, and the pair started making their way out of the forest. There was much less tension during the journey out than there had been when they had walked in. Sportacus happily skipped alongside Robbie, wanting to turn cartwheels and handsprings but unwilling to let go of his boyfriend’s hand. Robbie rolled his eyes at the elf’s energy, but couldn’t keep a smile off his face. It was much more tolerable when there was a warm hand holding his. 

 

When they reached Robbie’s lair, there was an awkward silence between the two. For once, Robbie hadn’t really wanted to reach his home. It meant going their separate ways.

“So.” Robbie coughed, shuffling his feet. “I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Well-” Sportacus hadn’t stopped smiling since dinner, but in that moment Robbie swore his grin got even bigger. “I do have one more thing for you tonight.” He looked up to where his airship was hovering overhead and commanded “Package!”

A large, plain box fell from the airship into Sportacus’s arms. Robbie stared, “What is it?”

“Well, let’s get it down into your lair and you’ll see.”

When they got to the main living space of his lair, Robbie was itching to see what was in the box but Sportacus didn’t open it quite yet. 

“Do you have any space that could be used as a bedroom?” Sportacus looked around the lair curiously. He knew there were back rooms, but hadn’t seen anything but the library. 

“Uh. Well.” There was a room that Robbie had attempted to use as a bedroom, when he had first bought and renovated the old underground bunker. It had even had a bed in it at once time, before Robbie had broken it up and burned the remains in an insomnia-fueled bought of anger. 

He led Sportacus back there now. It was mostly empty, save for a few bits of scrap that had somehow drifted in from the main room. The walls were draped in fabric, a half-assed attempt at noise deadening, but it was all coated in a layer of dust now. 

Fortunately, Sportacus didn’t make any comment on the state of the room. Instead, he just set down the box in the center of the room. He didn’t open it, however. As Robbie watched curiously, Sportacus placed both hands on the box and murmured something in what he assumed was Elvish. The box suddenly doubled, then tripled, in size, before unfolding like some bizarre inflatable life raft. Sportacus took a few steps back, watching the process with satisfaction, and when the dust settled Robbie was surprised to see that the box had somehow turned into an entire bed. The frame looked like the gnarled, twisted wood of an ancient tree, and there was a fluffy stuffed mattress sitting on top. 

“What- How-?” Robbie was well acquainted with magic, but was still having a hard time believing a box the size of his microwave had turned into a king sized bed. 

“It’s of Elvish make.” Sportacus said unneccessarily. “I sent a letter home for one a few days ago, finally got it this afternoon. I thought a bed would be more comfortable for you than your armchair. It didn’t come with any blankets or pillow though.”

“I have both.” Robbie went back out into the main from to retrieve his furry orange pillow, and a blanket in a dark shade of purple. The two clashed horribly on the bed, but looked very inviting to Robbie. He sat cautiously on the edge of the mattress, testing how soft it was, before looking back up at Sportacus. “Do you want to join me?”

That was just the invitation Sportacus had been waiting for. “I’d love to!” He removed his vest, then pulled off his shirt over his head. Giving Robbie a -very- good view of his chest and dear god, the elf had abs for days. 

Managing to pull his gaze from his boyfriend’s bare torso (barely), Robbie set about removing his own shirt. He gave a hiss of pain as the move jostled his wings, reminded abruptly of how sore they had been all day. Sportacus was immediately there at his side, taking his shirt and setting it aside. 

“Oh no, I almost forgot your treatment. Here, lay down and I’ll apply it.”

Robbie obediently laid down on his front, face in his pillow, as Sportacus ran back out to retrieve the pain-relieving salve from the main room. The ache retreated as Sportacus massaged his back, and by the time he had finished Robbie was snoring into his pillow. A man could get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos, everyone! This one is done, but rest assured there will be more SportaRobbie stuff from me on the way soon!


End file.
